


It's a secret

by sciencemyfiction



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Gen, and learning more about each other, like before they're really close, set early in the show, so it's meant to be a time when they're becoming more friendly to each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-25
Updated: 2011-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27707870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencemyfiction/pseuds/sciencemyfiction
Summary: Kotetsu and Barnaby get hit by a spider's web NEXT and have to wait until the webbing dissipates to get free. Barnaby's handling it just fine, but Kotetsu seems a little freaked out. Barnaby talks him down.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	It's a secret

Even in the midst of the chaos that has led to their awkward predicament, Barnaby can tell that something's wrong with Kotetsu. He can't quite place what the first sign is-- the sharpness of his breathing, or maybe the skip in his steady diatribe about their current predicament, or maybe just the fact that he doesn't struggle when they find themselves stuck where they are.  
  
The others are busy, and besides Agnes's frustrated growl at losing two more Heroes in the fray to this bizarre NEXT's energy webs, there's no second thought for Tiger or himself.  
  
Just as well. Because something is wrong with Kotetsu, and Barnaby's not just going to leave it be.  
  
"The hell is this stuff, anyway?" Kotetsu's saying, his voice a little loud, a little high, words coming faster than usual. "I mean, you'd think a NEXT would have a proper power or something but instead we're left in who knows what the hell this is and now the slimy bastard's getting away."  
  
Rather than point out, primly, that said bastard is a woman and the nets appear to be made of something alarmingly similar in texture to spiderweb, though the strength is a bit more like titanium, Barnaby frowns at his partner, wriggling a bit until he's sitting with his back against the wall. Looking at it now, he can see they're almost lost in this damned abandoned factory. The place is so old it's pathetic, dilapidated and rotted and rusted through in places. None of the lights still work, and while Barnaby has been netted to the floor in a way he might be able to work free of in about an hour (when their powers regenerate), Kotetsu was hit mid-air. He hangs now from the ceiling, his body folded in on itself, thoroughly entwined in the webbing, his wrists bound to his knees and his head pulled back by the single line of webbing that connects him by his throat to the wall.  
  
A compromising position if Barnaby's ever seen one, though nothing to be afraid off, especially since their arachnid-loving villainess simply kept running once she'd immobilized them, determined to get to her get-away car. And yet, Kotetsu is clearly shivering and his breathing is off.  
  
"H-hey, are you still there?" Kotetsu asks, and there it is, a definite spike of _panic_ in his voice at Barnaby's prolonged silence. "S-seriously, please don't say you ran off without me, that'd be way too cruel."  
  
He's about to inquire whether Kotetsu's brain-dead, then realizes that, with his head craned back like that, the old man can only see the dark, unyielding ceiling, and is completely incapable of moving for exactly as long as it will take Barnaby to escape, as well.  
  
So instead, he sighs, feeling a little guilty for his own temper. This isn't someone he dislikes; he'd prefer to think of Kotetsu as a...friend.  
  
Maybe more. "I'm here, old man."  
  
Kotetsu laughs, but there's a nervousness to it that usually isn't there. "You stuck too?"  
  
"Yeah." He begins to wonder what's got Kotetsu so worked up, but before that there's the question of how they're going to get out of this mess. "It should be easy enough to get rid off once we can use our powers again, in any case."  
  
"That's-- that's an hour from now." Kotetsu sounds much less reassured than Barnaby would have expected; his breathing, still ragged, grows softer, as if he is making a conscious effort not to hyperventilate. It doesn't seem to be working, and Barnaby silently curses the darkness of this place. It can't be making whatever's wrong easier for Kotetsu. And Barnaby's no stranger to unpleasant memories.  
  
A tiny, frightened sound carries between their communications link, a sound Barnaby's fairly certain only he will have heard, and he looks up again, even though he won't be able to see anything useful and he knows it. Even if the light were better, they're in full armor and that's not going to change any time soon. "--Old man?"

"Ah," Kotetsu gasps, his voice shaky and weak, curiously trembling as though he's trying not to scream. The panic has only escalated, though Kotetsu's voice has dropped back to its normal pitch. "I-it's nothing, I um. My elbows are just kinda jammed into my gut, so it's hard to breathe."  
  
Barnaby can see how that would obstruct a man's breathing, and it's true that Kotetsu's position is anything but comfortable, but he can tell there's something more to it. Rolling his eyes, he mutters under his breath. "You're always so troublesome."  
  
Another of those very tiny, plaintive sounds. If anything, it seems like Kotetsu's having an even harder time of ignoring their predicament. "Y-yeah?" he answers, clearly making an effort to force himself to talk. "S-sorry for being such a burden, then."  
  
"I didn't mean--" Well, yes he did. He stops, then shrugs, plucking idly at the strands of webbing still pinning him to the floor. His hands are still trapped, and forearms; really, the sitting position he has chosen to adopt is anything but comfortable. Still, it's better than laying on the ground, waiting. "Why are you so nervous, old man? You're acting weird."  
  
"I'm not." The denial is faint, and Kotetsu's voice cracks. "I'm not doing anything weird, I swear."  
  
And that's-- odd, but Barnaby doesn't quite put two and two together. Frustrated, puzzled, he decides to settle in to wait, trying to gauge how far from the main action they are now. It's not even been five minutes; they'll be long out of range if they really do have to wait until their powers recharge. He tries to struggle a bit where he lies, but the net has the unfortunate quality of being quite heavy in addition to somewhat sticky, and between its weight and its adherence to the floor and his suit, there's little he can do.  
  
Above and to the left, Kotetsu is struggling too, no longer speaking, just making soft, panicked, agonized sounds.  
  
Miserable sounds.  
  
"Listen," Barnaby says into the silence between them, bored and unhappy, hearing someone else so obviously afraid. Perhaps especially hearing Kotetsu afraid. He's not really sure he's ever seen the old man _afraid_ before. Defensive, deflective, and confused, sure, but it's like nothing gets to Kotetsu. "Struggling isn't going to help, so why don't you just calm down and wait silently?" Patiently?  
  
He is tempted to add, in his frustration, 'please?'  
  
All that goes out of his head when Kotetsu answers, though.  
  
Or rather, when Kotetsu whimpers. "I can't," the old man says, sounding very fragile, "I can't move, I--"  
  
And then it occurs to Barnaby why Kotetsu might not be acting quite like himself. "--Are you-- claustrophobic?"  
  
Kotetsu laughs, though it's a shaky shadow of his usual. "Th-that's Saito you're th-thinking of, Bunny."  
  
"You're clearly terrified," Barnaby counters, lip twitching into a snarl at the pet name. Damn the man, can't he be serious for once? Or not even for his own sake? "Are you afraid of the dark, then?"  
  
A dry sound, sort of like a cough, sort of like a chuckle, is his only answer. That, and Kotetsu's breathing, continuing to catch at irregular moments, coming too shallowly and too fast.  
  
Drawing a blank, Barnaby offers as an aside, "Being bound?"  
  
Kotetsu moans weakly, and Barnaby realizes he's hit on the answer.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Please--"  
  
" _Why_? You were calm enough that time you got us wrapped up in your wires."  
  
"Please, this is--"

"If we're supposed to be partners, damn it, you have to tell me why you're afraid, old man," Barnaby hisses, his patience already thin. Ten minutes is on the very slim end of this wait and it's not looking like things are going to get any better as time passes. Slowly. "You're not acting at all like yourself. If this sort of thing happens often, you'll be more of a liability than u-"  
  
" _It doesn't_ ," Kotetsu interrupts, desperately. The rest comes in a breathless rush, his voice a little shrill. "It doesn't happen, _ever_ , so please, just-- just keep talking about something else until we can get out of here, okay? Please?"  
  
He is tempted, oh so very sorely tempted, to say no, not until Kotetsu tells him why this is a problem. But that would be going against his own policy regarding prying into other people's private affairs, and the only way to lead someone as bull-headed as the old man is to do it by example. "Fine. What do you want me to talk about?"  
  
Kotetsu's voice sounds strained. For a moment, Barnaby feels a pang of sympathy, wondering if it's painful to have his head pulled back so far like that. Probably making his neck sore, at the very least. "Just, um. Just anything. Ah, god. I don't know. Music?"  
  
Of all the inane things that anyone has ever asked him, music is probably the last he'd expected Kotetsu would take interest in. Oh, people have asked Barnaby all manner of prying, annoying questions, but unlike the fans that so desperately want to know the unimportant details of Barnaby's life, the old man has never cared before. Arguably, he doesn't care now, just needs something to take his mind off of whatever it is that's bothering him about being tied up.  
  
With a heavy sigh, Barnaby gives up his reluctance and tries to answer in a way that will be distracting enough to keep Kotetsu from getting any more frightened than he already is.  
  
"I'm particularly fond of classical music," he begins, unintentionally adopting the same condescending tone he usually reserves for interviewers. "Opera and the like. Honestly, the term 'classical' is a misnomer. My favorite era is the romantic; Chopin, Dvorak, Debussy--when it comes to classical I like Beethoven's forceful voice, but not much else. The modern era, by contrast, is too mixed up in itself. You have the modernist movements, minimalist, neo-classicism, jazz, improvisation--"  
  
Kotetsu interrupts, meekly, "I like jazz, too."  
  
"I didn't say I liked jazz," he corrects without thinking, and hears the wince before he realizes how sharp his tone was. "Sorry; I do like it, I suppose. I haven't really sought it out. As I said, I prefer opera, and that's relatively uncommon as a genre. Musicals in the modern day tend to pale by comparison."  
  
"You should try a bit of the jazz from earlier in the movement. Acid jazz is probably too out there, for you, but some of the stuff right between bebop and big band was pretty complex."

Oddly, Barnaby finds himself at a loss for words. He makes a soft sound of acknowledgment and then, inexplicably smiling to himself, adds, "Jazz, huh? I guess that suits you. Just as out of fashion as everything else you like."  
  
The tone of his words is teasing, but he's relieved all the same when Kotetsu only laughs instead of taking offense. "I never really gave much of a damn for music before I got involved with my wife." Now, Kotetsu's voice has gotten very low, and the baritone thunder of it throbs on the pitch of his words, soft and sad. "Some of those old love songs just rip you apart. It may not be in fashion, but it's timeless, in its way. Something to remember her by, anyway."  
  
Awkwardly, he murmurs his apologies.  
  
"Nah." A long pause, and then, wryly, Kotetsu apologizes instead. "I shouldn't have interrupted. Go on."  
  
The unspoken _please_ isn't what makes Barnaby pick the thread of conversation up, though he would to make Kotetsu a little more at ease, if that's what it takes. It's the sense of interest, despite whatever strange fear it is that's affecting the old man, that Barnaby responds to.  
  
Usually when people ask about what he likes, or doesn't like, he could care less what they think of him. He knows he is doing his job in order to be idolized, and to achieve that goal he needs to be as open as possible about anything that might help attract fans' attention his way. But this is Kotetsu, who usually doesn't want to know, who prides himself on keeping his distance from people.  
  
Maybe Barnaby's not the only one with trust issues.  
  
But at least they both want to talk to each other; and from there on out, the hour passes with Kotetsu's breathing in check and Barnaby sufficiently distracted that he can't bring himself to care when their rescue teams show up ten minutes too late, to find them peeling off the last strands of the sticky webbing.

**Author's Note:**

> Another old anon-meme fill! Again, haven't checked for typos or spelling. Might do later. Hope it's all right! Thanks!


End file.
